


Out of Sight

by rowofstars



Series: Scars to Show [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingerfucking, Hyperion Heights, Non-Graphic Violence, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roni's Bar (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold as Detective Weaver, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Woven Lace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Lacey's boyfriend is arrested, but not without incident. In the aftermath, Weaver finds himself on Lacey's bad side, but an encounter at Roni's leads to a making up... of sorts.





	Out of Sight

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for April’s smut prompt at a-monthly-rumbelling but I got stalled and couldn’t get it done in time. There’s a very loose plot forming here. Still mostly just reasons to have Lacey and Weaver bang. I’m pretty sure this is emospritelet‘s fault. ;) In this AU, Nick Branson is Lacey’s ex boyfriend, not Jacinda’s, and he’s also not Lucy’s dad. This is all now being put in a series called Scars to Show.

Lacey’s back hit the side of the car hard, almost knocking the breath from her.

“ _What the fuck?!_ ” she yelled, her eyes flashing with anger.

The last two weeks had been filled with anxiety as the police investigated her ex-boyfriend, Nick Branson. When Weaver suggested she help by getting the bastard to a specific location so they could take him down, she was eager to help. But she hadn’t thought about what would happen when it all went down. 

She’d been standing by the abandoned warehouse with Nick while he tried to pick the lock. The darkness crept around her, and he had that hard look in his eye, the one that always appeared right before his anger boiled over. Her heart had been pounding so hard she thought it would burst through her chest, and her hand tightened around the strap of her purse. Then the sirens and lights came, Rogers and Weaver ran up, and for a moment she really believed she was going to take the fall too, that they’d been using her all along.

Weaver looked quickly to his left, watching as his partner, Detective Rogers, shoved Lacey’s ex-boyfriend into the Charger. He held her wrist to the side, firmly, but not enough to bruise.

“ _Hey_ ,” she said, pulling against his hold and shoving at him with her free hand. “I haven’t done anything!”

He fixed her with a hard stare and then leaned in close. “I know that,” he hissed, moving with her as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. “But I have to bring you in too, or that human piss stain stinking up the backseat of my car will know you’re the reason he’s in cuffs. Understand?”

Lacey’s eyes went wide. While Nick wasn’t likely to get bail, he had a lot of low life friends he could send after her if he thought he’d been double crossed. His sinister, violent streak was one of the many reasons why she kicked him the curb and changed the locks. And why she carried pepper spray at all times.

Weaver pulled her away from the car long enough to turn her around and shove her against it for a second time. She made a show of wincing in pain as she glared at Nick through the car window. The asshole looked away, and she scowled over her shoulder as Weaver slipped a pair of flex cuffs over her wrists. Under other circumstances this could have been a prelude to a very pornographic evening.

“You could take it a little easy.” She grimaced when the plastic tightened around her wrists.

He flashed his teeth and pressed against her, trapping her between the cold metal of the car and his warm body. She pushed back on instinct, rubbing her arse and her bound hands against his groin. It would be too easy to yank her short black mini skirt up over her hips and slip his hand between her legs, but the thought of having Lacey tied up and at his mercy was not what he needed to focus on right now.

His lips were just brushing her ear when he spoke. “Now what would be the fun in that?”

 

 

* * *

 

The door to Roni’s bar opened and Lacey looked up from her martini glass.

Weaver caught her gaze and held it for a long moment. His jaw worked and his lips stretched into a thin line before he broke away and sauntered up to the bar, sliding on the stool at the end. It was his customary spot, the one that gave the best view of the room and kept his back close to the wall. No one could go in or out, or sneak into the back hallway without him knowing. 

She frowned, noticing that he was wearing his longer, military style coat instead of the leather jacket. It covered his backside, and she hated that she was even trying to look at his ass, much less annoyed that she couldn’t see it.

She blew out a breath and watched him give the room a once over, twisting on the bar stool. It had only been a couple of weeks since Nick’s arrest, but she wondered if that was long enough that they wouldn’t arouse any suspicion by talking. The truth was she didn’t want to talk, but she very much wanted to _arouse_ something. Their little tryst in the bathroom had been on her mind entirely too much, and the bob of his throat as he took a long swallow had her clenching her thighs together. She turned away, huffing in irritation.

The whole fake arrest thing was still pissing her off. He hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her what he was planning, he let her put herself in a situation where something bad could have happened, and then he pretended to arrest her, complete with cuffs and an uncomfortable ride to the station jammed in the back of his patrol car. 

There was an odd sense of deja vu over the whole thing, years of her life she’d rather forget, full of mistakes and regrets, and a couple of other rides in the backseat of police cars. Things had been hard after her mom died. She’d made choices that no sixteen-year old should have had to make, but her father was worthless, and it was bad choices or starvation.

Lacey shook her head and downed the last of her drink. Then she pulled out her phone and swiped the screen, tapping out a couple of quick texts to Jacinda and Sabine, hoping that one of them had better options for something to do on a Friday night.

Roni set a glass in front of Weaver, and held up a bottle of whiskey. “The usual?”

He gave Roni a curt nod and watched as she poured, snatching the glass up as soon as the liquid stopped. A drop fell from the spout and caught his finger as he lifted the drink to his lips and took two large swallows. He fought back a wince as the burning alcohol coated his throat and set the glass down hard. The warmth coiled all the way down to his stomach and he felt some of the tension ease out of his bones as he rubbed his neck.

Roni arched an eyebrow when he motioned for her to top off the glass. “Bad day?” she asked, tipping the bottle and refilling it to the same level. “Or bad case?”

The bottle thumped against the bartop and he paused with the drink halfway to his mouth, eyeing her over the rim. “Does it matter?”

She gave him a look and planted her hand on her hip. “It does if you’re gonna get shit-faced on my whiskey and drive away all my business with that glare of yours.”

His lips twitched slightly before the glass touched them, and he took a small sip. “Well, I’ll agree that the bar is your business, but my life is not.”

She rolled her eyes, and quickly moved the bottle out of his reach. “Fine, if you’re going to be an ass about it, you can drink the cheap stuff.”

Before Weaver could respond, Rogers clapped him on the shoulder and took a seat on the stool next to him.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he said, then he paused to glance at Roni. “I’ll have one of whatever he’s having.”

Weaver twisted to face his partner, frowning, as Roni poured another glass and then moved down the bar to other customers. “This doesn’t seem like a celebratory drink. What’s happened?”

Roger’s sighed and gave him a look. “It’s not.” He stopped to sip the liquor, as if he needed the extra courage. “I saw the list for tomorrow’s court assignments, and Branson’s lawyer managed to draw Judge Cutter.”

“He’s guilty as hell, and he gets the only judge who seems to hate the criminal justice system. Meanwhile, that guy Higgins picked up for shoplifting bread and baloney to feed his kids, gets thirty days in county.” He sagged and leaned on the bar. “Fuck.”

“Agreed,” Rogers muttered, turning the glass in his hand. “What do you wanna do?”

“I want to finish my drink, _alone_ , and deal with this on Monday,” he said, running a hand over his face as though he could wipe away the grimy feeling his job always left behind. Then he turned his head and gave Rogers a look, lowering his voice as he spoke. “But I’ll have a chat with Belfry tomorrow, just in case.”

“Right...” Rogers started to frown, and looked as if he was about to protest. Then shook his head and downed the last of his drink. “Whatever, just don’t fuck up the case.”

He smirked. “I think I can handle it.”

Rogers slid off the stool and leaned over his shoulder with a smarmy grin. “Thanks for the drink, mate.”

Weaver scowled, and tipped back the whiskey until the last drips had trickled onto his tongue. After a few minutes, he started fiddling with the ring on his left hand as he waited for Roni to make her way back. Alcohol would only do so much for the restlessness building inside him, and if he didn’t find an outlet, he’d end up going back to the station and hauling Branson into the interview room with the broken camera. There wouldn’t be a need for any hearing after that, or a trial. It was the only kind of justice the bastard deserved, but he didn’t dare. Nick Branson had attacked three women, and as much as he’d like to give the man a very thorough arse kicking, those women deserved their day in court.

He turned to look around the room and saw Lacey getting up to leave. Roni was preoccupied with chatting up Jacinda and Hyperion Heights newest resident, Henry Mills. It seemed Miss Vidrio and Henry were quite - _friendly_ \- and Weaver caught himself smiling slightly as his gaze shifted back to Lacey. 

Lacey put some cash under her empty drink glass and hopped off the bar stool just as the volume jumped up a notch. The evening crowd was settling in and with it came lower lights and louder music. She wasn't opposed to either, but she had basically two friends in Hyperion Heights, and they had other plans for the evening. There was no sense in wasting what little money she had drinking at Roni’s when she could do that just as easily at home. Weaver looked her away and she turned abruptly. Her apartment might not have top shelf alcohol, but it was free of infuriating detectives.

She made her way to the back hallway, intending to head past the bathrooms and out the back door, but someone grabbed her arm as she ducked around the corner. She spun around, ready to scream in case it was one of Nick’s associates.

“Oh, it’s _you_ ,” she spat, yanking her arm out of Weaver’s loose grip.

He smirked. “Nice to see you as well, Lacey.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, right. You gonna pretend to arrest me again? Or maybe this time it will be for real.” 

Lacey lifted her hands and arched an eyebrow. His gaze moved slowly from her face down to the pale skin on the inside of her wrists. He took hold of them, one in each hand, and let his thumbs brush over the light blue lines of her veins. It was easy to imagine the shine of his cuffs around them, the metal cool on her heated skin as he fucked her. Especially since his mind kept drifting to their encounter in the bathroom. More than once Rogers had caught him staring at his paperwork, eyes glazed over as he recalled how amazing it felt to fuck her and how much he’d like to do it again. It was getting to be a problem. A shiver went through her body, and despite the cool indifference on her face, he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

After a long moment, she pulled her hands away and let them drop to her sides. “No? Then get out of my way.”

Lacey turned away and moved to brush past him, but he sidestepped and ended up in front of her. 

“I didn’t have a choice,” he insisted. “We had to make it look good.”

She bumped against his chest and staggered back, scowling. There wasn’t another choice, she knew that, but he could have at least said he was sorry, the bastard.

“ _Move_ ,” she snapped. The corner of his mouth curved and she glared. “Fuck you.”

Weaver stepped forward, forcing her to backup until she hit the wall. The beat up cork board hanging next to her rattled, waving its collection of local band posters, advertisements for minimum wage call center jobs, and missing cat notices. Fire flashed in her eyes as she pushed off the wall, refusing to be cowed, and she dropped her purse to the floor, reaching out with the intention of shoving him away. 

She pressed her palms against his chest, feeling the heat of him for the first time since her faux arrest. On impulse, she wrapped her fingers around the edges of his leather jacket and hauled him to her. His lips crashed into hers and she was pressed back again, between the hard brick wall and his firm, warm body. His tongue ran along the seam of her lips and she opened for him, giving up any notion of stopping this madness and all coherent thought along with it. There was a hint of whiskey in his mouth and she moaned, arching off the wall to push her chest against his. He hauled her against him, kissing her like he’d been starved for it, like he’d been waiting to feel her lips on his again since the moment they’d left Roni’s bathroom.

She gave him a gentle shove as she sucked in air through her nose, her lungs beginning to burn, and he broken the kiss with a low, wet sound. His eyes were almost black in the dim light of the hallway, the sconces at either end casting them in myriad shadows. The band started to play, the music thumping, and she could feel it through the wall, pounding in time with her pulse. She licked her lips and ran her hands down his chest. 

He followed the movement of her tongue over her lips, and took a deep, steady breath. Her eyes met his, her face tipping up in unspoken invitation. This was neither the time nor the place, but as she moved down to his belt and brushed her fingertips over the buckle, he knew neither of them cared enough to stop. Her hand came up to cup the back of his head, sliding through the soft, short strands there as the other one tugged at him, her finger tips curled into the waistband of his jeans. 

Lacey revelled in the way his jaw tightened and the strain of muscle in his neck as he tried to hold back. After another long moment, he pushed her backwards gently, until she felt the rough edges of the brick. He dipped his head and kissed her again, slower this time, but somehow more insistent. His body pressed firmly against hers, pinning her in place, and she couldn’t stop the moan when she felt him hard against her thigh.

When they pulled apart again, she was panting and her lips felt deliciously bruised and puffy. Bending, he peppered her overheated skin with wet kisses from her cheek to her neck and down to her collarbones. His right hand moved up to cup her breast through the clingy material of her dress and she gasped. His fingers moved roughly, rubbing the fabric over her. 

“I’m starting to think you just like me pinning you up against things, sweetheart.” 

He smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Fuck off.”

Then she turned her head and looked back down the hallway towards the bar area, wondering if Roni had noticed them yet, but it was dark and the band was loud. No one paid them the slightest bit of attention. 

“Do you want this?” he asked, keeping his mouth close to her ear as he whispered so she could hear him over the music. His hand was still on her breast, and he gave her a soft squeeze, then ran his fingers between her dress and her bra, catching her nipple. With his other hand, he cupped her backside and drew her up against his erection.

Lacey gasped and arched into his touch, a ripple of desire shooting straight to her core. She was already wet, and the closeness of his body to hers and the heat between them made her press her thighs together. His hand moved again, dragging his fingertips over her breast, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she murmured, burying her face against his shirt as she held the sides of his jacket tight in her fists.

Weaver tugged down her dress enough to work his hand inside her bra and cup her soft breast. “Lacey?”

She hissed out a yes, and looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes, letting her head fall back against the wall. His hand moved and she moaned, pushing herself towards his palm, eager for him to touch her. He rolled her nipple and pinched it hard, grinning when he felt her knees go weak and she wobbled into him. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her up, using the wall for support as he leaned forward to kiss her again.

She panted and whimpered into his mouth and he felt his pulse quicken, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans. His hand left her breast and moved down to toy with the hem of her dress as he pulled back. Her eyes fluttered and then opened wide as he lifted it just a little bit.

He watched her steadily, but Lacey thought she could see a hint of uncertainty or nervousness in his eyes, as if at any moment she might tell him no and break the spell they were under. The thought floated through her mind that she shouldn’t do this, that this was only going to make things worse between them and possibly compromise Nick’s prosecution, but she immediately told that thought to fuck off. She wanted him too much to stop now.

“Please,” she begged, her legs shifting apart even more, giving his hands more access.

He smirked and let his eyes drop to where his fingers disappeared under her dress. There was no teasing. As soon as his fingers grazed her silk covered pussy, he was lost. He pushed the flimsy cloth aside and sank a finger into her as far as he could go. Her head dropped to his shoulder, and she spread her legs even more as he added a second finger. His thumb quickly found her clit and stroked her in time with the thrum of the music. She cried out and pulled at his jacket and his shirt, her nails clawing at him as she tried to muffle her noises.

“Fuck, Lacey, you’re so wet.” He grunted in her ear, shifting so he could press his cock against her thigh. “Is this all for me?” 

Her hand swatted feebly at his arm as her hips started to rock, driving his fingers deeper in her cunt. She opened her mouth to say something, but he crooked his fingers within her and she cried out, her eyes falling closed. His lips at her ear whispered praise as she ground her pussy against his hand, soaking him with her arousal.

“Look at me,” he said, and she couldn’t help but obey. 

His eyes were impossibly dark, sparkling in the low light, and she could still feel his cock, rock hard against her hip. He fucked her in time with the beat of the music, his fingers sliding in and out in shallow strokes that moved his thumb over her clit in tight circles, and her toes curled from the pleasure.

“So close,” she managed, dropping her head and panting against his chest. Her muscles tensed, her pussy fluttering around him as her body begged for release.

He kept his rhythm steady, and started rutting against her hip, thrusting to relieve some of the pressure on his aching cock. When he spoke again, his words were strained and his voice sounded almost hoarse.

“Lacey,” he whispered. “You’re gonna come, sweetheart. I’m gonna make you come so hard, right here in this hallway, with a bar full of people just over there.”

She swore and clawed at him, digging her nails into his shirt. “Fuck - no - _fuck_ ,” she babbled.

He grinned and nipped at her pulse point. “Yes, you are. You’re gonna come with my fingers inside you, right here, right now.”

Lacey’s eyes met his as she tipped over the edge, white lights flashing and a frisson of heat sliding over her as her fingers grabbed helplessly at his shirt, his jacket, anything. She keened, a short, high sound that was only half muffled by her teeth sinking into her lip. 

Weaver worked her through her orgasm, his rhythm softer and slower as she pulsed around his fingers. As the sensation became too much, she shied away from his touch with a whimper. He pulled his hand away with a smug smile and wiped her sticky juices on his thigh, not caring if anyone noticed the odd smears.

She let her head fall back against the wall of the bar and adjusted the front of her dress as Weaver quickly tugged down the hem. Her cheeks were flushed and her entire body tingled, sated, but only temporarily. She wanted more, so much more.

Reaching for him, she palmed the front of his jeans, giving his cock some much desired friction, and he let out a soft grunt. Unfortunately they couldn’t do that here, not tonight, not with the place packed as it was. He looked down at her hand, watching as she fingered the leather of his belt.

“My place?” he said suddenly, glancing up as he tried to hide his surprise at his own impulsive invitation. He didn’t usually do that sort of thing, but he was dying to be inside her again. 

Besides, this was Lacey, and for some reason he trusted her enough to at least let her in his front door.

She swallowed and licked her lips. “Mine’s closer.”

Weaver blinked and then leaned down to kiss her, soft but insistent. When he pulled back, he glanced down the hallway just in time to catch Roni coming around the corner with a frown.

He looked back to Lacey and took her hand, flashing her a sly grin. “Lead the way.”


End file.
